“If he’s worth your body, your life, then surely he must be worth some pain, hmm? A bit of humiliation.” The prince snapped his fingers. “So get. On. The. Bed.”

He was right. Even when she’d thought she sold her body so Lewin could harvest her juices, she hadn’t expected a pleasant experience. This dark monster might be a better fate than the brothel she’d been facing before one of Jimmy’s goons grew a conscience, but he was still the Prince of Demons. Even if he’d been surprisingly gentle with her so far, she wouldn't soon forget how he’d crushed that poor man’s skull to replenish his own energy. By comparison, a little pain and humiliation wasn’t the end of the world.

Steeling herself, Georgia climbed onto the bed and lay down on her back. He hadn’t asked her to strip out of the silky dress, but the flowy garment wasn’t much help in protecting her modesty. The skirt bunched up around her thighs, and she felt the sear of the demon’s gaze on her skin as he moved closer.

Whatever branding meant, he’d healed Larry. It was worth it.

“You’re shaking.” His deep voice didn’t betray any emotion, and when she cut her eyes up to his terrifying face, the expression on it was impassive.

Georgia clutched her hands in the bedding, trying to anchor her trembling muscles. “Sorry.”

The demon blew out a breath and sank down on the foot-end of the bed, a single fingertip skimming over her bare ankle. “Are you always so sorry, little lamb? When you lay down your life for another, when you don’t do what you’re told… When you tremble and fear for your pretty little cunt, the first thing that comes to mind for you is to apologize?”

His heated touch traveled higher up her shin, rendering her tongue dry and her skin pebbled with nervous goosebumps. His voice was soft, but there was a quiet, lethal quality to it that set her on edge as much as his touch and the ominously lacking explanation of what he was planning on doing to her.

“I… we made a deal. You kept your end of the bargain, and I promised… compliance,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut when his hand moved to her knee and warm anticipation spread up her thighs. Perhaps if her body didn’t remember the two times he’d touched her there already, it would have been nothing but dread. But even as her mind turned over the words ‘branding’ and ‘training’ with frantic repetition, the slow slide of his hand, ever upward, sent a thrill of excitement along her skin. The utter and complete mortification made her clutch harder at the sheets. He was a prince among the darkest monsters to haunt the Earth—and his merest touch made her clit swell against its metal confines, eager for pleasure that should have disgusted her.

Only it didn’t.

Deep down, she knew that even his demonic face would do nothing to tamp the increasing burn in her blood as his fingers finally reached the hem of her skirt and pushed up underneath it—but so long as she kept her eyes shut, she wouldn’t have to acknowledge it.

Something is seriously wrong with you, Georgie.

“Oh!” The first stroke of his knuckle over her lower lips sent a lightning bolt up her spine that had her breath exploding out of her chest.

A deep, rich growl vibrated through the air, pebbling her nipples.

“You’re wet.” There was more than a hint of accusation in the Prince’s voice—but not nearly enough to drown out the heat. It crawled up her thighs and sank into the bones of her pelvis, cementing the shameful truth of his words.

“S-sorry.”

He huffed an irritated sound and then rubbed his thumb up the length of her slit to find her exposed clit. When he brushed the pad over the sensitive flesh, the crackle of sensation—too sharp, too intense—made her jerk and suck in a sharp breath.

The prince pinned her in place with a large, heavy hand pressed firmly to her abdomen, low enough to not agitate her still-full belly. “Oh, no. You promised compliance, remember? So you will comply.”

His snarled command shouldn’t have made her pussy clench—it really, really shouldn’t.

Her body didn’t give a single fuck.

The next brush of his thumb over her clit was still much too intense, but behind the screaming of nerves, something dark and needy rose. She was entirely helpless, entirely at his mercy—forced to take the stimulation to her exposed little clit, no matter how much it might hurt. That thought should have filled her with terror—and it did—but not nearly enough to drown out the tidal wave of lust that rose from the deepest parts of her mind in response.

“Oh my God! Harder! Please—please, more!”

15

Kesh

More.

The word rang in his ears as the needy little Breeder spread her thighs wide and arched up into his touch, even as she squirmed under his hand to escape the direct stimulation.

He’d left the kitchen with more steely determination than any enthusiasm for what he’d have to do to the girl. His tongue still pricked with the taste of her earlier climax, and his cock seemed to be in a state of permanent erection. But the dark undertow of need the cursed little thing provoked was underlined with the increasing scent of her fear and the knowledge that if he didn’t keep his magic in check during her branding, he would kill her.

She was the first Breeder to grace his territory since his family had assumed power in the Americas, and if he accidentally killed the girl before he could finish preparing her for one of his men, there was every chance it’d cause enough uproar throughout the territory to give the Europeans the edge they’d need to win the war.

In the good old days, she’d have been given to a procurer, who’d blind and ring her before she realized what was going on, then ship her off to auction where she’d learn to take a demon’s cock soon enough. But no. Queen Selma had declared their age-old customs barbaric, and somehow that meant it was now his job to put a brand on this woman and train her body to enjoy a demon’s anatomy, without accidentally murdering her with his too-powerful magic along the way.

“More!”

The sharpness of the command jerked Kesh out of his stupor. He stared at the Breeder’s face for one long moment, the tight grimace on her features as she rode up against his fingers making blood pound in his temples and rush in his ears. The meek little human who’d cowered at the foot of his dais and apologized for everything short of breathing was gone, replaced by the wanton woman who’d grabbed onto his horns and forced his mouth to her pussy, despite being so weak she could barely stand.

“Look at you,” he snarled, frustration lacing through the gravel of his voice, even as he pressed his thumb in harder against her pulsing clit, obeying her demand. “What a pretty little whore you make. Are you wet from knowing you can’t escape? Is that it? The big, bad monster has you pinned and there’s nothing you can do but submit that needy little pussy to every dirty thing I can do?”

The Breeder moaned brokenly, shame coloring her cheeks, but the rush of liquid trickling from her opening showed the truth: yes, that was exactly why she was wet for him.

As a demon, Kesh was plenty familiar with humanity’s dark desires, but the knowledge that the soft-spoken, fragile little female, who reeked of fear whenever she looked at him, got off on forced submission—that he hadn’t expected.

Predictably, it went straight to his dick.

“Shit.” Electricity crackled up his spine as the scent of her need penetrated his nostrils and sank deep into his lungs, filling his very being until there was nothing left but her. His cock throbbed painfully in the confines of his pants, and his body ached to settle on top of her, to feel her smooth skin, taste it⁠—